


Moonlit

by JValentine0



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst and Tragedy, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Romance, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-17 18:14:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29476050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JValentine0/pseuds/JValentine0
Summary: "It's going to be fine. The military is outside of the city. Help is here, Joan.""That's bullshit and you know it! We're locked down. There's a curfew. There are more reports of people being attacked. I heard it on the radio!""Just drunks, Joan.""No Brad! We both know that's not what's happening. We should have left town already."Side story to Secrets and Lies, portraying Brad and Joan.
Relationships: Brad Vickers/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	1. Chapter 1

<https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5bSPlqPAJFM>

"We're going to see the flowers bloom, right?"

"Yeah, babe… We're gonna go. Delucia is real pretty this time of year," Brad bit back a sob as he held the compress fast against the side of the woman's neck. He didn't dare another look beneath.

The corpse of her attacker was laid out in front of the barricaded doors in a pool of its own filth. Blood and skin glistened between rotting teeth. The S.T.A.R.S. emblem of Brad's knife shined in gold and blood from where he had jabbed it into the zombie's skull.

"I don't think I'm going to make it though..."

"It's going to be okay, Joan. Just stay still. Help is coming."

She was too tired to laugh, fingers slippery in red reached to graze the side of his face. Blood came away as finger paint. "Nobody is coming. Jenna is gone and I'm…" She whimpered, tears glittering in her eyes.

His shaking hand slipped and gripped hers. Soft lips along her beautiful wrist, it took everything in him not to lose it right then and there.

Joan smiled. She smiled the way she always did in the dim light and tangled sheets; face aglow with it reaching clear to those green eyes.

Brad frowned. He frowned the way he had every night since July. Nothing Joan could say to him would ever spare him the guilt or shame. Not even the way she looked at him that moment could spare him.

The city was lost. 

Soon she would be gone too.

* * *

"Hey Piper, if you're heading out to lunch can you drop this off at the airfield? New guy forgot his flight bag. S.T.A.R.S. is taking off a couple hours."

Swiveling around in her seat, Joan's brows rose high. "I can. Do I really want to?"

Marvin just made a face at the brilliant smile delivered toward him. "Alright then. You fly, I buy. Pick up something from Emma's on the way back, please?"

"Why, Sergeant Branagh that is awfully kind of you. I'll be sure to get the lobster." Badge tucked in a back pocket, the brunette woman slung her coat over a shoulder. 

Shoving the bag and money into the woman's hands, he chuckled. "Burgers, Piper. Just burgers and fries. Bring something back for everyone else too. We're gonna be here late tonight."

Outside of the hangar, Joan slung the pack over a shoulder. The sun was in her eyes until she was in the shade of the massive building. Past a door to what stunk like a bathroom, she pushed one of the double doors open to the main hangar floor. The place was empty aside from yellow lines stenciling out a walkway, some grounding points, and one UH-1 loaded onto rollers and hooked up to a tug. Looking around, Joan was confused just where to drop this off.

Her answer came as a door from across the hangar suddenly opened. "Hey! Do you know where the pilot is?"

He was about her height, sporting a yellow jacket and trying to hurry across the clean white floor. "That would be me! Did Marvin send you?" Brad waved, letting out a sigh when the bag was in his hands. "Thank you so much. I'm having the longest week ever."

"I bet. Not like a pilot to forget his helmet and gear." His cologne was pleasant to her on the air so near one another.

Another sigh and Vickers fished out his helmet. "Yeah…"

"It'll get better. I'm Joan by the way." She offered a hand in greeting.

He took it and smiled. "Brad Vickers."

* * *

A beer bottle smashed to the floor. "Aw! Look what you did!" Chris said with a sigh, leaving the stage. Forest followed after, their usual boyish behavior resuming.

"Clean it up!" Joan huffed, presented them with a broom and dust pan. She just shook her head as they continued taunting and teasing one another. Spotting a familiar face in the crowd, she left them and the mess behind.

"How did those two graduate?" Joseph asked, wiping tears from his face as he laughed.

"Teacher passed them just to get them out of her hair, probably." Brad replied, sitting up as she approached. "Hi, Joan."

"Hey Brad, I'm surprised you came out tonight. I thought you were flying."

"Yeah, I did." He replied, nodding. Nervous as always.

Joseph looked between the two, shaking his head at Brad. "…C'mon man. She's trying so hard."

Flustered, Brad glared over at him. "What?"

"That sounds like fun." She offered to silence a potential argument, gathering up empty bottles. "Well, I'll see you around." Lips pressing to a thin line the beer bottles went into the trash can as she headed toward the back.

Forest's laughter filled the air as the two returned to the table. "'Oh Brad, I want you. Why can't you say anything that would let me know that you wanted me too?'" Speyer's impression of the woman only made the group laugh more.

"Brad, you just need to get a deeper voice around her. Nothing gets a lady going like a deep voice. Could tell her that you spent half the day in the john and her panties would still fly off." Ken said with a chuckle.

"Brad's balls haven't dropped. Stop taunting him, Ken." Joseph scoffed, finishing his beer. "You'll get there one day, Vickers."

The teasing was too much. Brad stormed off toward the bathroom before anyone could get another jab in.

Vickers doused his face in the sink, letting out a huff as water trickled off him. Drying off, he didn't want to go back out there for another roasting. Not now. Taking a left, he headed out the door poorly illuminated by an exit sign, doused in moonlight as he stepped outside. A familiar stink in the back alley filled his nostrils, the moon swollen full above. It looked pretty, too bad he was pissed off. "Assholes."

"Are they still harassing you?" A voice asked, Joan appearing as the door swung shut. Leather from her jacket clear to her boots, she was a black ink splotch against a brick wall.

Brad tried to play it off with a shrug. "Same as always…" When she took another drag, he cleared his throat. "You know that stuff is illegal, right?"

"Mhm…." Green eyes looked at him sidelong. "So?" She raised a brow when he dared to point at the joint between her fingers.

"You could be arrested for that." His eyes were enormous when she was in his space.

Joan blew smoke and air out, sad ivy eyes meeting his stare. "Is that what you think about when you go home, Brad? Cuffing me?" One last drag taken and she held the air, flicking the roach over the fence.

Alarm streaked across a normally glum face. Not even five minutes after being taunted by the guys here she was… "I- NO! No! I would never-…" His entire form stilled when her lips brushed against his. An eager tongue asking for entry had his jaw slacked, smoke and tongue rolling over the inside of his mouth.

He inhaled all of her, still lost in the moment when she released him from her clutches. 

"Because if that's what you're into," Long fingers traced up and down the front of his shirt. "I'm interested." Lips a hair away from his, she spoke softly. "My apartment is just across the street, I have a few hours to kill before closing up…"

Brad blinked, coughing out the smoke from what she had shared, unable to form words let alone anything seductive enough to match. Through the glass where he hid so much of himself, she saw him. He knew that. It made him less tense. So did the pot.

"Wanna come up with me?" Joan never followed any rules but her own now.

He wouldn't have wanted her any other way.

* * *

Keys dumped on the table by the door, Joan shed the jacket from her shoulders. It dropped on a stack of old newspapers. She followed him, an arm slunk over his shoulder as they both looked at an article carefully tucked under fruit magnets on the fridge. Joan stared back at them in ink on paper, smiling brightly in her uniform.

"I remember that. You caught the guy who evaded S.T.A.R.S. for months," Brad commented, thumb tracing over the tight script of the headline. The heat of her so close was devouring his attention. Her touch; electric.

"Did I ever tell you what happened when I caught up to him? He tried to grab me from behind in his apartment when I was questioning him. Slung him like a sack of potatoes right through his glass coffee table." She smiled fondly when he chuckled.

"I never heard that part of the story before..."

"Probably had to get stitches in his butt. I don't remember anymore. Want a beer?"

A few more drinks and she was pulling him away from the island in her kitchen.

* * *

_Holy shit... he's in my bedroom._

His hands went for her hips. She gave him a push onto the bedspread. In the dim light, the brunette's eyes drank him all in.

Leaning forward, Brad hooked a finger along the waist of her pants. It only took seconds for her to be left in nothing but a pair of filigree black panties. An interesting selection, it felt like window shopping. His palm wandered up the sheer fabric as she crawled into his lap and out of the pants puddled on the floor. The pilot was growing anxious under his surface to entice her with his touch. His experience was limited, but he was eager. So eager to play out what ran through his mind a million times when she'd bumped into him. 

Teeth nipping at her bottom lip briefly, she couldn't help but imprint it all to memory.

His fingers pushing the fabric of her tank top up until she was tugging it overhead.

The outline of his girth under the material of his slacks.

He looked so untamed in her bed, under her, her fingers tracing his bottom lip.

Her eyes widened as his lips parted and a tongue drug against the pads of her fingers. Those fingers dipped and he sucked. His smile was an easy thing when her fingers retracted, tugging back a little more on one side than the other.

So beautiful.

Him.

Just like that.

She was as high as she'd ever been from the image alone.

His grin faded fast under Joan's gauging stare.

Fingers frisked through his hair, the rock hard girth pressed against her as their mouths fused. She didn't acknowledge it openly; he'd have to show want of his own. Tearing free for air, his mouth and tongue on her collarbone was such a pleasant feeling; it sent a tremble down her spine. She wondered how he would feel rigid against the roof of her mouth as she drug her nails to his belt.

He traced the interior of that annoying fabric she still wore. He barely brushed against the heat of her when his brows jolted. Zipper down, her hand snaked in.

He was thick and hard, and his nostrils flared as she rotated her thumb over the head of his member. There was some pride to be had in watching his eyes dial and desire scribble its name all over his features. His fingers pressured spots white and then staining red as his hands moved again. He couldn't look away. The pace of the stroke, the look on her face… The gentle bounce of her chest from breath and motion. She made him ache in the worst way possible and left him dripping. He hated how she made his member weep all over the skin stretched between her thumb and index finger. He loved it too.

Joan gasped as his wrist flipped, a crooked finger sliding in easily. She visibly shuddered, internally collapsed all around his digit as it slid to the joint before retracting over and over. Even the pad of his thumb rotated over her pearl. Everything in her quaked. She felt his stare even when her eyes where shut. She hated how a second finger sank inside and thrust. She loved it too.

His teeth sank into her side. A tongue bathed over the bruise and perfect mark of his teeth under her ribs. Cool breath made her mewl. He pushed in. Her walls pushed back. He knew she was building fast and fierce. Tongue drug between the mounds of her breasts, he panted hard against her skin.

Her grip on his girth finally released, both of her hands were behind her on his knees. Those fingers of his were about to be the end of her. She shamelessly begged him not to stop, dripping all over his palm. Such a brutal and starved animal she was under sad eyes and a smoky voice. 

He could feel her legs trying to close on either side of his own. He spread wider, much stronger than she was.

The brunette was forced to tremble all around him, her hands on his chest. Eyes locked, her face was a flurry of emotions. His name leaving her lips, she cried out from a less than affectionate thrust of fingers. She pushed back against his digits, quivering.

"Cum for me." His voice was a low whisper.

It was too much for her to hold in. She never thought she'd live to see the day those words would escape his throat. It made her clench, entire form seized. Drenching his hand was an understatement, shaking uncontrollably.

Brad's free hand cradled the back of her neck, keeping her steady. "Are you alright?"

Her nod was not very convincing. Fingers drawn out, her panties slid back. Sopping wet, as wobbly as a fawn fresh to the world, she stumbled to her feet. His hand caught her forearm, she never hit the carpet. Eyes lifted to him as she slid the soaked undergarments off.

The crease of his lips parting, the glistening tips of his two fingers responsible for making such a mess, slid past teeth. His tongue lapped along them, heavy lids hovering over his eyes. He watched her watching him.

So carnal, somehow she could believe that this was him. His own veil was lifted, finally crawling out from under his rock. "That good, huh?"

His pearly teeth bit down on those digits until they ached, lips enclosing to suck the remnants off. Her taste was as close to being completely intoxicated as he cared to be. Dumping off his shirt, he wagged a finger for her to join him once more.

In his lap, she was done with hesitations. Hips rolling against him, she left his length slick in her honey. It took a dark and husky voiced confession in her ear before she slid back and then on him. All of him, safe inside, filled her right to the brim. Stretched wide, the brunette had plenty of experience.

Her tongue licking up a bead of sweat near his pectoral made him seize.

His hips met hers, buried so deep, fingers digging trenches, bruising and abusing her skin.

She whimpered, a pained tone echoing out while previously skittering fingers clenched.

He ceased, pulling back. Sat up, his arms encompassed her lithe form, fingers snaking down to her ample bottom. Gentle affections wrote silent apologies along her neck and then her mouth.

She set the pace with a gentle rock of her hips against him. He sunk back onto the bed. Under her wandering mouth he let out his air in a sigh. The slope of his shoulder, her lips drug and half-moon eyes watched his close. He pulsed as she ground down and swirled around, muscles bordering the tension of piano wire. His mouth hung open, something he was unaware of entirely.

Neither of them intended to get lost like this together. Forehead to forehead, sweat slicked them both. His eyes refuse to tear away, hypnotized by her using him for her own needs. He was so close, and yet so far from his own end.

She could have ridden him like he was her own stallion to whip and spur right across the finish line.

Their roles reversed. Behind her, a hand in her hair, he tugged her head back. Hips bucking, he met her halfway. She was a vice around him, squeezing and pressing. Nose against her neck, he buried as much sound as possible when his end came. She could feel every throb of his release, thighs shaking. Her heartbeat was in her head and he was dripping out of her when he pulled away.

She gazed at him, blinking under sweaty strands of brunette.

Something seared in his chest, heavy and hot. He felt it more for her now than ever. It was an emotion that didn't deserve a name. He closed it away. He couldn't form words, panting heavily. He wanted to. More than badly he wanted to tell her everything that was going through his mind.

What she looked like.

How he saw what it all could be.

Brad looked at her thoughtfully for a moment, a hand gently rising to rest against the side of her face. His mouth found hers without warning.

He kissed her how he should have kissed her so long ago.

She expected him gone before dawn, another notch on a belt.

Dawn came and went. She found herself alone, sighing. The sound of water running in the bathroom made her heart thump hard.

Flipping the light off, Brad was all bedhead when he crawled back in with her, his nose burying against the hollow of her beautiful neck. He held her like all children hold their favorite toy.

The one that kept monsters away.

She allowed herself to relax after that. Assured of sincerity, she drifted back to sleep.

* * *

Metal door swung open, Chris led the way into the back alley. Salt scuffed with his tread, snow everywhere on the ground. "Freeze, pot head!" He pointed a finger at the woman sitting on the trash can next to the door.

Joan's eyes rolled, a middle finger presented. "Blow me, pig." The air around her was permeated with the stench of marijuana. "What's up?" Her voice was strained as she held in her air.

Arms folded, Chris glanced to the woman closing the door to the alley. "Jill hasn't heard the story about why you're the saint everyone at the RPD prays to when Irons is looking to wreck their day."

Jill gave the pony tailed brunette girl a small wave.

Snickering, Joan waved back. A plume of white smoke escaping her lips, she smiled. "Oh, the story of Joan of Raccoon against the tyranny of Brian the Fat is a tragic tale." She jumped to her feet, the trash can banging against the ground as it spilled open. Somewhere in the dark a dog began barking. "Ah, shit. Oh well, I'll make the bus boy clean that up. So, anyway… It goes like this: I joined the RPD in 1992 as a beat cop. It wasn't a bad gig, I was rising fast. I transferred to the K-9 unit and did pretty well with them, and then it came time again to consider me for promotion."

Chris took a seat on the stoop.

Another long drag taken from her joint, the woman paused. "Irons didn't want women to rise above sergeant, let alone ever becoming a detective in his police department. Fat sexist shit thinks women should be barefoot, pregnant, and unable to seek justice for rape. He used to beat on his old lady. There was some talk about him hurting two girls in college but Daddy's money made that all go away." She made a dismissing gesture with her hand. "Enough about that though. About three years ago was when I was being looked at for promotion. He canned it immediately. He did the same to four of my female peers too."

"That's blatantly sexist." Jill stated, pulling at the label lining the neck of her drink.

"Yeah, it is." The Piper girl retorted, hands reaching up to smooth away some unruly locks of brown. "Anyway, we started digging around. It turns out that Chief Irons had his hands in several cookie jars. You know the Cedar district? That crazy fuck was part of the land grab that put a lot of people on the streets. Categorized it as commercial land, Umbrella bought every inch and started throwing up building after building. They brought their own people in from elsewhere, so no new jobs. Crime jumped in Raccoon City, and it was all people just trying to feed their kids with no money to be made. He had the boys in blue loading them up, dumping them off in Stone Ville so the mayor would shut up. All their kids were taken to the orphanage, so who knows what happened to them. Two female prisoners claimed he did something to them… He's a heartless bastard and it's my fault that he's not behind bars."

Breath fogged, Jill finally dared to ask, "What happened?"

"She pissed hot," Chris answered from behind his folded hands. "DA didn't think they could prosecute him when the officer making accusations also happens to be one that was recently fired by Irons for drug abuse."

Piper flicked the remnants of her joint over the fence. Her voice cracked as she spoke, "Umbrella started hiring people as soon as the riots became violent. Everything started going back to normal. The other female officers managed to get promoted eventually. I think the threat of feminists roaming Raccoon City was enough to make the man submit." Her hands dug into the pockets of her jeans. "So, if Irons ever tries to talk to you about 'duty' or 'justice'… He's a fucking liar who only wants to control his little 'Pleasantville'." She looked to Jill with a hard expression. "Him, the mayor, all of these big shots…"

"They're all liars. Every last one of the top tier for city officials and in the PD…All of them are cheats and liars." Chris noted softly.

Jill sighed a bit, lifting her beer to her lips.

Joan popped her lips twice before replying. "One isn't." She could almost feel Chris rolling his eyes, and it caused her to snicker. "I know you two haven't ever kissed and made up, Chrissy, but why won't you even try? Sending flowers goes a long way."

"Ain't happening." He climbed up, already retreating inside. "I need to piss. Have fun this weekend in Delucia meeting Brad's parents, Joan."

* * *

The sun was bright on the morning of July 25th. Joan's feet were kicked up along the open door of her old red Sunliner. Alanis Morissette was on the radio, telling her what she ought to know while she filed at an uneven edge of a nail. The drone of a helicopter high overhead had the woman poking her head out from under the canvas top. "About damn time, Brad." File dumped in her purse, she killed the engine and headed up toward the RPD.

It was another forty minutes before a familiar yellow vest caught her eye through the doors. "Good morning! Did you guys…?" Her brows quirked as Chris and Barry stormed past her. Jill and Rebecca could have used some buckets for all of the tears they were shedding as they ducked past the woman as well.

_Was Becca covered in blood?_

Frowning, she looked back to Brad. "Did something happen?" A million thoughts ran through her mind. Only one helicopter came back.

_Another crash? Oh no…_

"Where's everyone else?"

The pilot worried at the stitching along his flight bag.


	2. Chapter 2

Horrible moans were muffled against the glass, fingers dragging long dark streaks.

Even with the blinds drawn tight, the dead knew they were in there.

"You need to go, Brad. Please… don't. Don't argue. Just go. Run before they get you…"

"I'm not going to leave you."

"You have to. You can't let them get away with this. They killed our friends. Jenna."

Her life hanging by a thread was a storm cloud hovering over them.

* * *

Check tossed in her clutch, Joan looked over herself one more time in the mirror. Cap off her lipstick, she carefully painted on a clean line, then another.

Finally paid for performing at this over the top wedding, she might be able to get the water heater fixed and take a shower in her own apartment. Jack had been up her ass for a week, every time she showed up to grab a shower there was an argument.

She never told Brad. It wasn't his problem and he had enough on his mind with work.

_He would have helped…_

She frowned at her reflection. Depending on someone was always a bad idea in her book.

Even with that in mind, there were things in her that unfurled every time he swung by for 'just a minute'. Things that bloomed between cups of coffee and the way he swayed with her from behind while she made dinner; hands on her hips, chin on her shoulder, humming away to Steve Miller Band crackling through on the radio.

These little things strung themselves together into an idea.

A life. One that came to her mind as easy as breathing. White picket fences, BBQ grills, his corny jokes and a pack of kids chasing one another around an inground pool. An eternal summer where fireworks and lightning bugs shifted to strings of lights and Christmas mornings where they both were half asleep wrapped up in house coats in front of a massive tree he just had to have for them. 

Tiny terrors racing around the house with new toys while basset hound puppy tried to keep up.

Dumping them all off at Forest's garage for a date night, half terrified of coming back to find the kids had burned the place down. Who was she kidding? Half of the time she swung by: Forest had set the place on fire himself.

_Weddings always do this to me._

The wedding reception hall still looked grand as ever, even after guests had cut a rug for half of the night. It made her smile, thinking of her own future for a moment. Gift basket in tow, she bumped into someone on her way out of the Depot. "Oops! Sorry… David." Her eyes widened.

The man simply stared at her for a moment, hair as silver as ever. There was a time she teased him about going gray so early in life. There were other times she teased him that he should pick a codename that didn't belong in a steamy romance novel about spies. What sane person called themselves Hunk?

Now she was just trying to get to the door.

"We need to talk."

"Call me tomorrow and we will," She replied quickly.

"I want to see her before I leave. I have a right to see her," the man replied lowly.

That hit a nerve. The golden light of the outdoor lamps bathed half of her face. "Your rights? Hmm, what about my right to some help raising her? How about some health insurance or dental insurance covered? How about a gift for Christmas or a fucking call on her birthday?"

"Everything alright?" Brad asked as he stepped outside. Confusion crossed his face as Joan offered up the gift basket and her clutch.

"Peachy." Her expression was torn between pain and rage.

Vickers took one look at the man, deducing just who would have managed to gain real ire from Joan. "I'll go start the car, babe." He paused when her hand snatched at his elbow, pulling him close enough to leave a lipstick mark on his cheek.

"I'm right behind you," She said, quick and anxious.

He couldn't see the argument that broke out as he stepped off the curb and out into the darkened parking lot, but the look on his three teammates faces told him to look back.

Joan's stance was hostile, even in an evening gown. Her hands were a flurry of gestures as she spoke in a heated fashion, a look fury on her face while her gaudy jewelry glittered in the dim light of the building's entrance. The man in front of her said nothing, toying idly with the toothpick set between his jaws. He suddenly walked off. "There you go! Walk off, it's what you're good at," followed him back inside the building.

"Jerry, Jerry, Jerry…" Chris whispered, pumping a fist. Both Wesker and Jill gave him a sour look.

Brad could only look on, sighing heavily.

Miss Piper was trying to calm the fury as she marched up the sidewalk. A bright smile appeared as she saw Brad. "Hey Baby! Are we headin' out?"

* * *

"Do you still love him?"

"BRADLEY VICKERS!"

"She whipped out the whole name. Man…" Chris grumbled from the back seat. "Don't ask stupid questions while she's driving." He undid his tie with quick fingers. "He's just had too many, Joan. Don't listen."

Vickers shook his head, looking out the window. Part of him wished he had rode along with Captain Wesker and Jill.

_Even though those two have been acting weird for weeks…_

"I don't love David. That was a long time ago. He's an asshole."

"He seems like a deadbeat. I've never seen the guy before tonight," Chris added, sitting back.

"He doesn't even live in the States. We met when I worked for Umbrella. I did security for a lab that manufactured vaccines in a remote region. That's all."

"That's not all. You two literally have a kid."

"Stop it, man."

She signaled left at the stop sign, turning onto Jack Street. "You've been more of a dad to Jenna than he ever was. I know it's a lot to take in, but you try at least."

"He's still her real father."

"Brad, shut up!" Chris's last attempt to intervene was cut short by Joan pulling into a parking space and slamming on the brakes. "Now she's pissed…" He muttered.

Car put into park, she looked over at Vickers as she killed the engine. "Look, I am sympathetic to your jealousy. Everyone feels that, but this isn't going to work if you're going to act like this. My daughter will always come before me and I will always try to meet her needs. It's not about me, it's about her. The sooner you get that through your head, the sooner you'll understand why I'd rather shit in my hands and clap than ever take David back. I love you and I love Jenna. That's it. Everyone else doesn't matter. Whatever you're thinking: put it to rest or go home and sober up."

Brad visibly flinched when she slammed the door shut. Air blown out his nose, the brunette mopped a hand over his face, quiet for a moment. "…Goddammit."

Chris unbuckled his seatbelt in silence, leaning forward to clap Brad on the shoulder. "Write her a bad poem. Give it to her with some dandelions. That should smooth things over." Unlocking the rear door, he stepped out too. "C'mon Vickers, let's get you some coffee."

* * *

Joan was behind the bar by the time the two wandered in, despite still being dressed in the same attire she'd worn while entertaining at the wedding. "It's been a long time since I saw you last, Captain. What brings you by?" Her bright eyes followed Jill and Rebecca for a moment and lifted to him as she cracked open two long necks.

A single blond brow lifted. "Boredom and babysitting."

"Oh, well then… Johnny Walker. Right?" The brunette girl's award winning smile flashed briefly. Ice, glass, and liquor after; she slid the glass over to him with a sigh. "On the house, so long as you don't start frisking people."

A long sip taken from the glass, Wesker's lips briefly pursed. "What was happening in front of the Depot?"

"Oh, you saw that? David decided to make the mistake of speaking to me." Tongue rolling along the inside of her cheek, she frowned. "Spencer's dog." Rotating her own glass against the bar, she just shook her head. "I wish I had never joined up and taken the assignment on Rockfort."

"Oh, Joan. We all had fun. Well, you didn't. He liked picking on you quite a bit."

"You were only there for three months. I was there for two years and I regret ever getting tangled up with that man. Jenna doesn't need to know him." Another glass poured, she sipped it down like spring water.

"Vickers is probably a safer bet."

"Mmm… you'd think so, but he had the great idea to piss me off too tonight."

The blond blinked, eyes going wide behind his shades as he listened. Looking for an out immediately, he found it in Jill waving him over. "You can't kill him, Joan. I need him. I'm sure he'll figure out how to make it up to you."

"We shall see…" Her eyes lifted to Miss Chambers. "Beers are on the bar, Rebecca." Turning, she carried her glass to the sink at the other side and disappeared into the back. One heel after the other pulled off, she left them behind on the cooler before she made her way to the back stoop under a blanket of stars.

When she came back in from a needed break, a napkin of all things was rolled up in one of her heels. She snorted when she read the message left on it.

_Roses are red,_

_Violets are blue,_

_I'm a jerk,_

_Your hair looks nice._

Rolling her eyes, she pinned it to the board with the work schedule before heading back out.

Rebecca and Jill cheered when Wesker sank the 8 ball into a pocket on the other side of the room. "We win." Rebecca beamed. "I want my jeep waxed too."

"That's not fair; you had the captain make the shot." Ed was almost pouting.

"Oh, you had no issue with him doing it when you two thought he wasn't going to win it for us!"

"Yeah, but he doesn't suck at pool. We thought he might suck at it."

"Well it serves you right for judging him. Shame on both of you." Rebecca grinned.

Leaning against the bar, Joan listened while Chris dazzled a few of the group with another tale from the Airforce. Fingers lacing with Brad's idle ones, her lips twitched up at their edges when he squeezed. Forgiveness came as a kiss against his cheek when he turned to pick up his cup of coffee.

* * *

Most of the group had taken off when the clocktower chimed at midnight. The remaining parties had ties loosened, jackets off, heels dropped and hair down at long last. Jukebox set to play the full list, Joan settled on one of the couches next to Brad. "It's 'Never Have I Ever'. Rules are simple. You take a drink if you've done the thing the person says they've never done. Alright, I'll start." Joan sighed. "Never have I ever owned a dog."

Everyone else groaned, taking a drink.

Brad was next. "Never have I ever flown with an airline."

Everyone else took a drink.

Chris was next, peering at his drink for a moment. It was time to start getting creative. "Never have I ever had sex with Brad."

Joan rolled her eyes at the collective snickering, taking a drink.

His date, Morgan, followed. "Never have I ever had sex with a woman."

Every man and Joan took a drink. Brad nearly choked. "WHEN?!"

"Moving on!" Jill peered at her glass for a moment, elbows on her knees. "Never have I ever been out of the country."

Most of the group had to take a drink.

Wesker sighed a bit, peering towards the bar as he thought. "Never have I ever paid for sex."

Brad and Joan both took a drink. Both gave the other a sidelong look.

Chris about died laughing right then and there. "Joan, you need to open up more to us. We're clearly not getting the best stories during happy hour."

"I think we all want to hear this story." Wesker smirked a bit, arm stretching along the back of the couch both he and Jill occupied.

Glass on the squatting table, she laughed. "Alright, alright. Is it safe to assume that you were saying that you never paid a prostitute for their time?"

"I suppose you could, yes."

"I paid a prostitute in Germany for her time because it was on my bucket list. We ended up going to a movie and eating at a Donor Kebab stand. Her name was Sindy with an 'S'. I loved her to pieces."

"That's not paying for sex, though." Chris replied, sighing deeply. "I thought we were going to hear one of these wild and crazy 'Joan Piper: Lady of the Night' stories."

"I bet she remembers Joan still, unlike any man that crawled on top of her and wheezed his way through two minutes of the best time of his life." Jill uttered.

Albert let out a snort, shaking his head.

Joan's pearl grin was visible even in the dim light. "Alright, my turn. Never have I ever learned how to speak German fluently."

Only Albert took a drink, a couple brows raised.

"Never have I ever given oral."

Everyone just stared.

"That's not something you want to say in this game, Brad." Chris snorted, covering his face with a palm as he began to laugh. Red faced, he wiped away a few tears. "Oh shit, I'd be lost without you in my life Vickers."

"This is rather educational." Wesker uttered, receiving a slap to the arm from the female to his left. "What?"

Breath relaxing, Chris leaned back next to Morgan. "I've never… Huh, gotta think for a bit. Oh, Never have I ever had a _'ménage a trois'._ "

Jill's eyes were the size of dinner plates as not only did Miss Piper take a drink but… "What, really?"

Albert merely lifted a single blonde brow after taking a sip from his drink. "What? It was a long time ago."

Brad's jaw about fell to the floor.

"Wait, we heard my paying for sex story. You have to tell us about the threesome."

A deep sigh and Wesker pitched his gaze toward the ceiling. "It was during college, the two ladies living across from me in the dormitories—…"

"Okay, I've heard enough." Jill refilled her glass. "Sounds like the opening of a porno."

"We are spending way too much time together when Captain Wesker is talking about having a three way." Brad chimed in.

Chris's face was in both of his hands as he laughed.

Stare shifted to Jill, Wesker shrugged. "I was eighteen. Nobody would have passed that opportunity up."

Across from them, Joan leaned in to speak quietly to Brad.

"They're fuckin'."

Brad just nodded.

* * *

"You really think those two are?" Sleeves rolled up, Brad dunked another glass in soapy water. 

"Who?" Joan asked, hanging her dress from a knob to one of the cabinets. Dressed down in a sweater and jeans, she felt a million times better.

"You know who. Captain Perfect and his best gal pal?"

She grinned, wiping down the glossy top of the bar. "They are or they're going to. It was pretty obvious when she reacted like that." She looked over to Brad. "Nobody is perfect, though."

Glasses set on the rack, Brad swiped the bar towel from her to dry his hands. "That could have been us."

Arms stretching above her head, the woman sighed. "True. We would have been forced to sneak around, only able to see one another during graveyard shifts. Screwing in your aircraft. So romantic…"

Brad snorted. "I'll talk to her about it. It might save her some headache."

* * *

"I thought this was strip poker." Forest said, taking a look at his hand.

"Well, the only one here who would want to see something like that is Richard…" Ed muttered.

Richard let out a chuckle. "None of you are my type, thanks for thinking of me though, asshole." A pearly grin appeared across his face when everyone else at the table chuckled. "Callin' it… Oh what the fuck, Brad."

"That's like the fourth hand, dude!" Joseph groaned, cards dropped on the table. "He's cheatin'."

"I don't cheat," The brunette sounded hurt when he gathered up his chips.

"Yeah, Joe. He doesn't cheat. We'd know if he ever did. Joan would be on CNN screaming she'd toss him in the wood chipper again." Forest replied with a smirk, finishing off his beer. "How long have you two been together?"

Brad cut the deck, shrugging. "Little over two years now?" His brow furrowed at the expressions all around. "What? Why?"

"When are you going to ask her?" Kenneth reached down, picking up his lighter.

"Ask her what?"

Everyone sighed.

"Ask her to marry you, dumbass." Joseph tossed off his bandana, raking a hand through bright red hair. "Have you even looked at a ring?"

"He's got one…" Forest leaned in, squinting… leaning in more when Brad recoiled. "…He's carrying it right now."

"How the fuck do you do that, man?" Vickers couldn't even react before Joseph had snaked a hand into the pocket of his vest, fishing out a box.

"Jackpot, boys. Ahhhhh! Hey!" His hand jerked to avoid a swipe at it. "We get to see it before you give it to her."

"It might be a Ring Pop and that's not going to work, chief," Kenny replied, the ash from his cigar flicked into the tray on the table. His brows lifted when the box was offered over to him. "Mmm… that's pretty nice."

Forest wrinkled his nose when he looked at the ring tucked in white satin lining. He let the box go when it was snatched. "You couldn't afford this. Are you a drug lord now?"

"It was my great grandmother's. Lay off." Brad replied, tucking the box away. He went right back to shuffling the cards.

"It's a nice ring, Brad," Richard added, trying to lower the temperature of the room. "When do you think you'll ask?"

"I'm asking her at the jazz festival."

"That's not until September," Ken commented, confused.

Cracking open another bottle, Joseph snorted. "He's going to need until then to get up the courage."

Dealing out cards, Brad was fuming. "Joseph, when was the last time you went on a date?"

"I can't go on dates, Brad. You know your mom gets jealous." He and his chair suddenly went over when Brad put him in a headlock.

Forest's jaw dropped.

Ed cackled up a storm. "Get 'im Vickers!"

"Can you guys stop so we can play some fuckin' cards?" Richard asked, picking up his drink as the cards, chips, and table went toppling over. "…Nevermind."

* * *

The house was older but it had a new roof. The white picket fence needed some work, grass growing tall along it. One of the windows in the back had a crack in it. A new coat of paint needed to be slapped on the south side. It would need some love, but they had plenty to spare.

Sunliner in the driveway, Joan pulled another box out of the backseat. She left it in a room painted in a cozy rose color. It would be Jenna's room soon. She took her time walking to the back door, turning about to gaze around.

A house, a real house.

She was going to get everything she wanted after all. A glass of sun tea in tow, it took some jiggling to get the back door open. "I think that needs fixed too."

Brad looked up from the lawnmower turned on its side. "Same with this, thanks babe." He drained the glass in seconds. It was unusually hot for late spring. "I think I'm just going to call a landscaper. This isn't working."

"Jack said it worked last week. Who knows…" Sitting down next to him, she took a moment to admire the ring on her hand. It always brought a little smile to her lips. So did he. "I'm just happy I get to wake up every morning and kiss you while living on Kiss Street."

Brad's turn for an eyeroll. "Cheese ball." His attempt to get away was met with a firm grip on his shirt and lips stealing a kiss.

"Just think... we'll be married next October."

He smiled fondly. "I can't wait."

* * *

Red pooled between them.

"I love you, Brad. I… We had a good life together." She worked the ring off her finger, offering it up. He still had a chance. She wasn't going to let that memory die with her. 

He hesitated, then tucked the ring into his vest. "I love you too…" There was no arguing with her at this point. Her hands in his, he kissed her knuckles one last time.

She was already gone.

He wept in the dark for her.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Suicide Contemplation right off the bat.

Six rounds left.

He thought about doing it right then and there.

Her first. Then him.

Jill warned him they always come back unless they get a bullet in the head.

Maybe she'd try to eat him if she came back.

_I'd… deserve it._

Well, he thought he did.

Her ghost disagreed with the notion from the back of his mind.

* * *

_"You've reached the Vickers! Please leave a message at the beep."_

_Beep!_

_"Hey Joan, it's Dad. It's about four in the afternoon. I, uh, I accidentally picked up Jenna from the Y. Sorry, I thought it was my night. You can have Brad call off the search. I bet you both have been worried sick. She's up here in Stoneville with me. She and the dog are settled in for the night, I'll drop her off at school first thing in the morning and him at the house. I'm really sorry, Joan. Hey, do give me a call back so I make sure you got this message, okay? Love you, Scooter. Bye."_

* * *

"Do you remember when you fell in love with me?" Brad asked, a grin crossing his lips when nails drug low along his stomach.

Joan made a thoughtful sound as she lifted her head. Messy strands of brunette were carefully tucked behind an ear. "That's a secret." She giggled when he squinted and scowled suddenly at her.

"Tell me."

Long fingers swept back wild strands. "Nope. Never. Don't you dare do puppy dog eyes. Bradley! That is blackmail. That is a crime, sir!"

Holding in a laugh, he poked out his lower lip to match the mournful lift in his brow. He smiled when she laughed.

"Ugh! You monster. Fine…" Rolling off of him, she nestled into the crook of his arm. "During the last bad blizzard."

Brad blinked, rolling on his side to face her. "That was three years before we started dating."

The woman just shrugged, tracing the line of his collarbone in the dark. "So?"

"Why didn't you say something?"

"You had so many female admirers, I knew I couldn't compete."

Brad's brows immediately quirked in confusion. "Who?"

"The ladies that work in the records office."

His jaw dropped in horror. "They're in their sixties and I don't appreciate those catcalls every time Wesker sends me down there."

Joan wrinkled her nose, fighting back a snicker. "I bet they all have your sweet recruitment poster on their bedroom ceilings."

"Oh my God, Joan! Why would you put that in my head?" He pulled away when she started cackling.

"I bet they call the number late night hoping you'll answer. 'Is there an oral exam, Brad?'," She squealed with laughter when wagging fingers went for her hips.

"C'mon. Real reason." His smile was so warm and free in the slant of light peeking through the blinds.

It always melted the frost off her spirit. A long sigh escaped, her hand smoothed over his as it ran up her cheek. "The real reason? Because I come with baggage."

He scoffed. "We all do."

She shook her head. "Jack always told me no man would want me with Jenna being on the spectrum and me being a single mother. I…" Her shoulders lifted and dropped. "Part of me believed him, I guess."

Brad was quiet for the longest time. The clock on the nightstand read twelve in glowing red. Unmoving, outside of breath and blinking, he spoke barely above a whisper. "That is the cruelest shit I've ever heard in my life. There's nothing wrong with Jenna. She's a little girl. Nobody can control that. You didn't expect to be Mom and Dad… What the fuck is wrong with him?"

Joan bit her bottom lip. "I don't know. That's Jack. He thinks he has an answer for everything. 'Everyone leaves, Joan. Remember your mother…'"

Brad's stare turned hard as he propped himself up with an elbow. "I'm not fuckin' going anywhere." Short nails ran over where moonlight met her shoulder. "Hey… You know when I fell in love with you?" His lips turned up when she shook her head again. "It was when you said 'I'm Joan'." When her form rose and fell harshly from breath, his arms looped and pulled her fast to him. Kissing away tears, his nose pressed along the side of hers. "I'm not going anywhere."

* * *

_"You've reached the Vickers! Please leave a message at the beep."_

_Beep!_

_"Joan, it's Dad again. It's about nine o'clock. I really hope you have a good reason for not calling me back. The news is a mess so I recon you're still stuck in traffic trying to get home. Before I forget, your brother and his wife are going to be here tomorrow morning so how about you two just come on up for the rest of the week and weekend? Your brother's been jabberin' my ear off about meeting Brad anyway. They can talk shop about helicopters and we'll go fishin'. Love ya, Scooter. Byeeeee!"_

* * *

The office stunk sterile. Jenna's dirty shoes swung back and forth on the exam table as she waited, expressive gray eyes fixed on the man sitting next to her on a chair. She reached out suddenly, poking at the emblem stitched in blue with white stars on his shoulder. She smiled brightly when he feigned a scowl.

"Alright then, Miss Piper…" Annette's brows lifted as she closed the door behind her. "And who are you?"

Brad was on his feet in a second, offering a hand. "Brad Vickers, Joan is at soundcheck. So, I…" His brows lifted when the blonde woman stepped around him and took a seat at the desk next to the exam table. "…Brought her for shots."

Annette smiled fondly to the girl, fingers looping in the air as she spoke in total silence to the girl.

Jenna's hands suddenly were animated, signing away a response to her doctor.

Brad sat down quietly, watching the two.

Birkin nodded, her stare turning back to the man. "Do you sign at all, Mister Vickers?"

"Still learnin'… What did she say?"

A nail scratched along one of her brows as she began to take down some notes. "She said you're her dad and you fly airplanes."

Soft brown eyes lifted up to the little one on the table. A smile drew itself across his mouth as she fiddled with the buttons on her coat.

A clean needle appeared when the cap was removed, quickly jabbed into a vial of clear liquid. The Umbrella symbol stenciled in red the only color to show.

Brows lifting, the man offered a hand to the young girl. Fingers gently gripping, his stare met her spooked one as Annette prepared.

"Just gonna be a little pinch, sweetie…"

He frowned when Jenna winced one eye totally shut.

"One more and we'll call it a day. Good girl. You're so brave," Annette cooed, a Barbie sticker soon in Jenna's hands. Her stare turned to Brad. "Tell her mother she's due for one last booster in six weeks and I'll get the referral she needs in the mail tomorrow."

Brad nodded, pulling his coat back on. "I'll let her know."

They were almost out of the exam room when Annette called out. "Have you gotten your flu shot yet this year, Mister Vickers?"

Brad's eyes went wide.

Back in the room.

Jenna looked from her new sticker still on its sheet up to the man sitting on the exam table.

Brad just pursed his lips, letting his air out when Annette returned with the vaccine.

"Alright, your turn."

Jenna offered her tiny hand to hold onto.

Annette couldn't hide her chuckle at the pair.

Jenna was still smiling at her two bright pink stickers when they arrived back home.

* * *

_"You've reached the Vickers! Please leave a message at the beep."_

_Beep!_

_"Scooter, it's Dad. It's about six-forty in the mornin'. Your brother just got in. I am assuming you and Brad went home and just crashed out. Please call me back, I don't think Jenna needs to go back to school today. The girls are here. How about I just call the school at eight and she play hooky so she can see her cousins? I heard helicopters flying earlier. What in the world happened last night? Call me, girl. Bye!"_

* * *

The phone clicked back on the receiver as Jack turned away. "I swear that girl gives me more gray hair every day. Lookin' for the coffee, Son?"

Henry shook his head as he opened another cabinet. "Creamer?"

"It's in the pantry." Fingers running over thinning hair, Jack forced a smile as his daughter-in-law stepped around the corner. "Hey stranger, been a while." His arms opened as the curly haired blonde wrapped hers around him. "Mmmm! I missed you two. How's Seattle?"

"Cold, wet… I love it up there." Michelle replied, smiling as two little bodies pushed their way between her and their grandpa. "Girls, take your bags upstairs before harassing your grandpa." Their whines only made her smile wider. "We're going fishing later, hurry up!"

"Yeah, girls… Jenna is up there so keep it down, okay?" Jack let out a sigh as the two were out of sight. "It ain't like Joan to not answer me. Somethings off."

"Who knows, Dad. Scooter isn't the sharpest tool in the shed all the time," Henry said with a shrug, stirring dried creamer into his coffee.

"They might have realized they were baby free for a night and decided to start making the next one," Michelle replied, a wry grin on her face as her brows popped.

Henry feigned a gag. "Gross."

Jack let out a sigh. "For once in my life, I hope that's the case. Maybe I'll have a grandson next year and we'll all have a laugh at this."

Both smiled at the man seated at the kitchen table.

A bright flash suddenly filled all of the windows, and a minute later the entire house violently shook.

* * *

Henry slammed the car door behind him, ball cap fished from the back of his belt and slung low over his eyes as he strode in the direction of the red tinted sky. "Stay in the car, Dad. I got this."

"You sure?"

"It's fine. Stay in the car. I'll find out what's going on." So much screaming, so many people bumping into him as they fled down the narrow paths between cars. It was total chaos.

_What the fuck is going on?_

He managed to make his way toward the crowd gathered at the roadblocks. He hung back, eyes veering over the many armed forms behind the barriers.

"My husband is still in the city! When will we be let in?"

"I have to get home!"

"What was that explosion? Was that a missile?"

Ducking through the crowd, he made his way toward the end of the barrier. Green eyes clicked their stare from one body to another. From the guy smoking, to another checking his gear, his eyes narrowed as he frowned.

* * *

He was fastening his seatbelt as soon as the door to the car was shut. "Drive, Dad. We gotta go."

"What about Joan?"

"Dad, just drive. Let's get out of here before we're pinned in. You're clear still." He took a look over his shoulder to the rear window.

"What's going on, Henry?"

"Just get the car turned around! C'mon, Dad." He let out a sigh as the wheel cranked and the car was thrown into drive. "You're right, something is really wrong."

"What? What are you talkin' about?"

"None of those guys have flags on their shoulders. No unit patches. Nothin'. No name tape, no Army over their hearts. One guy had a grenade launcher out and was smoking."

"What does that mean, Henry?"

The pilot just shook his head. "I don't know. They're not Army though, Dad. They want us to think they are though..."

Jack looked frantic behind the wheel. "Maybe we should check the other roads going in? We have to be able to get in somewhere."

Henry shook his head. "No, no. The reporter back there said the city had been hit with a missiles."

"What? Oh my God…"

The raven haired man choked back tears, blinking them away as the car swerved. "Let me drive, Dad."

* * *

"He hasn't been home much since the riots began," Joan said quietly. Wrapped up in a housecoat, she coughed harshly into her elbow. "I uh… I don't know what to tell you, Jill. We don't talk anymore. He's hellbent on keeping his job. I don't think he understands how close I am to leaving him."

"I'm sorry things are rough," Jill replied, the coffee in her cup cold when she took a sip.

"If Forest where here…." The woman bit her lower lip, shaking her head. "God, ever since they were killed it's like he died with them. You know? He's not soft and gentle anymore. He's just… he's just dead but walking around."

Jill grimaced at the thought. "I don't really need to talk to Brad. I wanted to ask you about when you worked for Umbrella. What did you do for them?"

"I uh… I was told I was guarding these massive coolers full of vaccines that required being at a low temperature at all times. Then, well before he died, Albert sent me a disc with instructions to look at it if anything happened to him." She wiped at her eyes, red and swollen. "Those monsters you told us about? I was guarding something like them. He had manifests and notes that said exactly what was in the coolers. There were pictures…" Her thumbs brushed over the side of her mug.

Jill's eyes were enormous.

Her voice was flat, emptied out and hollow. "Did you know most of those things used to be human? They were humans and I helped them take those poor people… Jesus Christ…" She couldn't help but weep, a dish towel used to wipe it all away.

"Joan do you still have the disc?"

The woman nodded, tears welling in her eyes. "Yeah, yeah you can have it."

* * *

"It's going to be fine. The military is outside of the city. Help is here, Joan."

"That's bullshit and you know it! We're locked down. There's a curfew, there are more reports of people being attacked. I heard it on the radio!"

"Just drunks, Joan."

"No Brad! We both know that's not what's happening. We should have left town already."

Anger finally beat down the last wall he had, and it would be taken out on her. "If you want to leave, go ahead! I'm not going. My life is here. I might be able to sleep at home for once instead of at my fuckin' desk! I'm tired of this bullshit, Joan!"

"It's all bullshit, huh? Our friends are dead, Brad! They're all dead! That's not bullshit," her voice wavered. "I can't believe you sided with the prick who not only canned me, but is trying to lie about how all of your friends died!"

"It's your own fucking fault you got canned! If you hadn't been such a fuckin' idiot you'd still have a decent job!"

Her eyes were enormous at that, shoulders then squared… then predatory. A panther in the brush, she looked ready to rip him apart.

He looked ready to make a mistake as soon as she did.

The moment passed.

Joan took what dignity she still had and left.

* * *

A hand went to the pocket on his vest.

The ring went back on Joan's hand.

He couldn't bear the idea of another hand having it.

He locked the doors and made his way out the back. The alley was empty.

Uptown was the next stop. He was getting the fuck out of town by the end of the night.

She hadn't asked him to be brave.

She had asked him to survive.


End file.
